Game On
by SirenMist
Summary: It had happened again. This was the whole reason Vincent and I hadn't spoken in so long. It had first been arguments about what we hated about each other, then we fought over differences, and then we flirted until we couldn't be in the same room. And just when I felt like I would explode from not being with him, he shut me out. *"Vincent, at least buy me a drink first…" He glared.*


**So it's been a long time since I've updated something. I just want to tell everyone that I'm currently working on the chapters of all my Yuffentines, and I plan to update them all on Valentine's Day next month. I know that's a long way away, but I can't juggle FF, research papers, and semester exams at the same time. **

**I'm posting this as a hope that all my readers see that note. I've had this written for a while, so it's nothing new. I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with Final Fantasy, nor do I profit from writing fanfictions. Seriously, I don't have a penny to my name.**

* * *

He looked peaceful, standing out on the deck of the Shera with the wind whipping his sable hair around his face. His crimson cloak flowed around his body like a halo, and I suppressed a giggle, thinking how paradoxical it was for Vincent Valentine, demon-boy and gunman extraordinaire, to even be considered in the same sentence with anything angelic and innocent. He was blood-red eyes, cold demeanor, scowling expressions, and trigger-happy. No way could anyone call him angelic.

But oh, he had the face of an angel. (Insert heavy, sexual-tension-laden sigh here!)

"Vinnie-kins," I called out, smirking as I latched onto his cloak and slid inside, hiding from the harsh wind. He dropped his gaze to me and blinked languidly, his expressionless face not changing once. The way he stared into my eyes made my heart pound a little bit faster, but I heard that when people lock gazes with someone, it made adrenaline run through their veins. So it's not like I was, you know, falling for him or anything.

Me — fall for him? Nuh-uh with a capital Throw-Yourself-Off-a-Cliff.

We were on our way to the first AVALANCHE reunion since Deepground, and though I'd visited Vince now and then during the year after Omega, it'd been a while since we last spoke. Almost three months, in fact. That was a pretty long time to be suffering Vincent withdrawal.

And yes, there was such a thing. Even Tifa was feeling it (but for entirely different reasons and all).

"Yuffie?"

Shrieking, I scurried farther into the shadows of his cloak, retreating from him like a mouse. He arched one perfect black eyebrow at me and—

"Leviathan, do you have to be so friggin' hot?" The second the words tumbled out of my mouth, his face darkened (in anger, mind you, I won't even _begin_ to assume it might've been lust) and he looked positively murderous, not to mention the fact that my face now blended completely against his cloak.

Hells yeah, I could be a chameleon! He'd never find me now! Talk about greatest ninja ever, if I could just blend to things at will — he was glaring. Crap in a materia, he looked fit to be tied.

_Powers of ninja awesomeness that be, don't fail me now!_

"—ty."

Vincent cocked his head a little, and — oh, be still my beating heart. Confusion registered on his face, which I promptly snickered at. "Haughty, Vincent. Why do you have to be so haughty? You're such an arrogant little bastard."

His red eyes narrowed, and suddenly I wanted to slap myself. Great, insult him, Yuffie. Not like he _already_ wants you dead or anything. Not like he _already_ finds you the most annoying nuisance in the world.

"Pray tell, what makes you assume I'm arrogant?" His voice was smooth, like the leather of his pants over his fit, firm a— ahem — ankles. Smooth like the leather over his ankles.

Yeah, 'cause his ankles were totally what I'd been staring at for the past couple of days. What were you thinking, you perv?!

"That!" I demanded, shoving a finger into his chest and waving frantically with the other hand. "You raise your eyebrow and stick your stupid chin in the air and say all proper-like, 'Pray tell, Yuffie, why ever would you assume I have a superiority complex? It could not possible be because I talk to you like you're a child and I'm Leviathan Almighty.'"

Well, that's it: I'm screwed.

"You are a child, Yuffie," Vincent bit back with a frosty tone, obviously not very happy with my — rather accurate, thankyouverymuch — interpretation of him. Well, he could go suck a materia. Hell, he could go suck _Cid's!_

Hehehe.

"Yeah, and you're a mopey little demon-boy, but do I go around flaunting myself?" There, in yo' face, Vinster.

"Yes."

Rhetorical question, Vincent. Learn before I slap you.

"You wound me," I answered back, clutching my chest and spinning around one foot, the other leg extended straight out as I pirouetted. Let me just say, twirling beneath Vincent's cloak is not easy by any means.

So it shouldn't have shocked me really — but it did — whenever I got wrapped up in red and could no longer breathe. When I popped my head up out of the cloak, my brown eyes widened to saucers, and Vincent's crimson eyes narrowed to slits. Uh, awkward?

Holy Materia, I'd knocked us over, and I was straddling his waist. As much as I enjoyed being nestled up against the gunslinger's body like this, there were some chances in life you just had to take, even at the expense of sitting on the ex-Turk. Well, now would be as good a time as any to make the most of the moment.

With a cocky little grin, I lowered my lips to Vincent's ear, brushing the shell softly as I purred sensually with a hint of feigned disbelief, "Vincent, at least buy me a drink first…"

His cheeks turned pink. They freaking turned honest-to-Leviathan pink, like, Aerith's dress pink. Vincent was blushing, and he was beneath me. _Wait — no Yuffie! Now is really not a good time to get turned on!_

Luckily, he saved us both the trouble by pushing me off of him, to which I ended up in an unceremonious heap of limbs, glaring at him icily with pursed lips. A thought came to mind and I grinned again.

"Somebody likes it rough, huh?" I winked at him and licked my lips suggestively, adding, "Have you ever let your demons out to play?"

Vincent glowered down at me and straightened his cloak. He stalked off, not bothering to reply. With a sigh, I slumped back down on the deck and stared up at the numerous stars, remembering how nice it felt to be in his arms, okay maybe not his arms. But I _was_ on his lap.

_On_ his lap.

On _his_ lap.

On his _lap._

_On his lap._

_Leviathan, is this Heaven?_

It had happened again. This was the whole reason Vincent and I hadn't spoken in so long, we were both hell-bent on aggravating each other through whatever means necessary. For a while, it had been arguments about what we hated the most about each other, then we fought over differences, and then we found ourselves shamelessly flirting, soft caresses that made our blood burn and little whispers that could stop us in our tracks. We couldn't even breathe when we were both in the same room with all our the tense undertones and subtle glances. And just when I felt like I would explode from not being with him, he sobered up and shut me out.

It was a while later before anyone came out to see me after that. The night air had turned colder-than-Shiva, but I didn't mind much. I'd been to Icicle Inn, nothing cold phased me anymore. I'd been more or less refused by the coldest man on Gaia. I could handle the icy wind.

"We're going to Rocket Town, Yuffie," Tifa stated, smiling in her maternally warm way as she examined my stupefied state. I'd been pretty much stupefied since I found myself on Vincent's lap. Huh, stupefied. Stupefied, stupefied, stupefied! What a fun word…

With a grin, Tifa turned and left, I and was still — wait for it — stupefied! Gazing up at the stars, I couldn't help but wonder if Vincent felt as brain-confused as I did when he felt me on top of him.

Nah.

No one bothered me after that, only left me to my devices and allowed me some privacy. I wasn't feeling particularly mischievous since Vince pushed me off his lap, but the sensation of droopy lids led me to believe that I was tired. It wasn't long before I was peacefully dreaming.

I woke up in the morning to an unfamiliar weight, but an oh, so familiar smell. With a smile, I pulled Vincent's tattered cloak closer to my body and fell back asleep on my bed. I could only assume how I'd gotten there.

* * *

Morning was a bore, no surprise there. When I skipped to breakfast and found no one sitting at the table with mounds of Tifa's to-die-for chocobo eggs and behemoth bacon, I scrunched up my nose. Those turds left without me.

"I see you have decided to awaken."

Okay, so one of the turds decided to stick around. Why did this guy have to be so chivalrous? It was seriously killing my attempts at not jumping him.

"Yuppers," I agreed, spinning around with a grin on my face (but I was scowling on the inside because I hadn't bothered to brush my hair). I conveniently forgot that he'd sacrificed his cloak for me, and unfortunately was nowhere near ready to see all of his beauty, especially at ten in the morning.

Hey, that was early for me.

But there could be no denying how absolutely gorgeous Valentine was when he wasn't hiding behind his red confines, only his crimson eyes visible and that long, sleek nose, and his skin that rivaled death…

Oh yeah, this man had it going ON!

_Mmm, he is delicious. A jerkface, but delicious._

He watched me through weary eyes, and I quickly realized that I'd been staring at him for a whole minute, which only added to the embarrassment. So I did what I did best and diverted the attention back to him, stating, "Vincent, your fly is down."

And then I took off, leaving a red-faced gunslinger that was currently gaping at his crotch (if only I had a camera!), only to find that his fly was just fine and sky-high. He probably glared at the spot I'd just been in, but it sucked for him, 'cause I was long gone.

When I got to Cid's place, things seemed pretty normal. Tifa and Shera were chatting, Barret and Cid were either having an argument, or having a who-can-cuss-the-filthiest match, either was a pretty good guess. Actually, they were probably having an argument over who _won_ the who-can-fuss-the-filthiest-match.

"Yuffie!" Shera cheered, her eyes bright behind her glasses. Excitedly, she pulled me into her arms and gave me a hug, exclaiming, "I haven't seen you in quite a while!"

Nodding enthusiastically, I replied, "I know! So much has happened since Deepground. I kept hounding Cid to let me come visit you guys, but he's usually passed out drunk or in another town."

"That's why I organized the get together," Tifa included, taking a sip of some sort of alcohol (I wouldn't know what kind because no one would give me any until my twenty-first birthday. Yay, two months left till I can turn out like Cid!). "Thank you so much for allowing us to have it here."

With a wave of her hand, Shera laughed, "Don't mention it. You two are the only lady friends I have around this place. Most women won't come within miles of Cid."

Wasn't that the truth. I still couldn't believe Shera had actually accepted the pilot's marriage proposal. Not me, not ever.

The door opened and metal clicked on the floor. Oh, I knew those footsteps. Only one person wore metal boots that made that noise.

Now, I knew without a doubt that Vincent would steer clear of me. You see, the gunslinger had just been humiliated for a split second before he realized that his zipper was still zippity-zipped and up top, but it didn't matter. That kind of thing stuck with Vincent. Embarrassment, I mean.

But there was no way I was letting him get away.

"Excuse me, girls, but I've got a gunslinger to harass." They giggled at me, but I didn't care. It was no secret between the girl-pack that I secretly had a crush on Vincent. Well, I don't know if I was more attracted to him or the idea of demeaning him.

A little bit of both.

"Hi, Vinnie," I whispered, perching myself on the arm of the chair he was nestled on. He had to have sensed me coming (I swear the man could detect me from a twenty mile radius) because he didn't bat an eyelash. He just turned his head to me, vacant and expressionless.

"Go away, Kisaragi."

Ouch.

Putting my hands up in an "I surrender (_for now_)" fashion, I backed away. But it was not over, not by a long shot.

Be prepared, Valentine.

* * *

**Should I continue? Let me know what you thought and if you'd like to see this as a chapter piece and not a one-shot. For now, I think I'll mark it as that.**


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